


Killing a King of a Kind

by SansyFresh



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Killing a bad guy, Original work - Freeform, Self Insert, Spoilers, for one of Crush's fic, i dont really know how to tag this lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyFresh/pseuds/SansyFresh
Summary: Fresh has had ENOUGH OF THIS CHARACTERSo I killed him.(not canon to Crush's fic lol)
Relationships: OC/OC
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Killing a King of a Kind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrushingOnRazz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushingOnRazz/gifts).



> hey crush
> 
> i said id do it
> 
> so i did

It wasn’t known in all of the lands surrounding the dreaded kingdom just how horrid the alleged King was to his wife, Basille. Really, it only mattered to the king of a far off kingdom, one that was far enough it took nearly a month and a bevy of letters to let them know they were coming, and to get there in the first place.

Damian was a king of many things, none of them perfect in his own right, but when the whispers of horrors unimaginable reached his wife’s ears, they soon reached his own. Whispers, tales of murder, torture and ruin, and even as the old king sat on his throne, he knew his own time had come to do something about it.

So they prepared, sent the proper letters of decorum and told Tyrrel he was on his way.

Delilah was left at home. She didn’t need to be caught up in this madness, and he’d already told her goodbye. Their own kingdom needed a Queen, just as much as they needed a King, and arrangements had been made in any case. 

The grand party prepared in his honor was more than unnecessary in Damian’s opinion. He was an old king, having made many mistakes, many many times. Still, he drank, he sang, he laughed his great laugh, and when it came time to stand and greet the Queen, he took his time, hand gently laid on the hilt of his sword.

If there were even a twitch, the barest uncovered mark of a bruise, anything, he would finish this tonight.

Tyrrel saw the two of them speaking, Basille more than happy to be speaking with an old acquaintance, and as he ventured over, hand coming down on Damian’s shoulder with a little too tight of a squeeze, Basille flinched. 

And that was all Damian needed to see. 

In mere moments the sham of a King had lost his head, both figuratively and very, very much literally. 

It didn’t take long for the shock to wear off the room, the guards stepping forward, Damian laughing loud as they struck him down. 

He died at peace, gaze to the heavens, knowing he’d left this world having finally done something of value.


End file.
